


the Queen of Wolves

by LittleRedRidingHood



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-13 13:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16019228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRedRidingHood/pseuds/LittleRedRidingHood
Summary: Arya is captured and is Ramsey's bride to be. But unlike Jeyne Poole, Arya is a true Stark, so see what happens when the Notherners are confronted with the trueborn daughter of their lord.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Arya is ten at the beginning, however I promise nothing happens romantically (cause thet would be quite unpleasant) at that age. Also, this is my first fic and English is not my first language, so I am sorry if my fic is loaded with mistakes.

Arya  
She screamed, yelled, and punched. But it had to be said no one had heard her cry. She almost escaped, if it wasn’t for Jaime, who had found her eating a pigeon in some tavern. She hated him for that, she hated Cersei for that, she hated Joffrey, late king Robert and Tywin for that, but most of all she hated herself for letting them get her. She remembered the Kingslayer, how he had laughed at her boys cloth and her messy hair. She remembered how she was dragged before them, how Cersei looked disdainful, how Tywin looked angrily, how Joffrey looked sadistic, how Jaime almost peed himself from laughing, but the most painful look had to be the one of her poor sister in tears. They had forced her to her knees, and told her she had to beg forgiveness. She refused, Meryn Trant hit her, she refused again with blood in her mouth. She’d rather die than swear allegiance to that little shit. Of course they didn’t kill her, they needed her. So they kept her in a dungeon far, far away from Joffrey and sadly also far away from her sister.   
‘I am al wolf and wolves don’t cry.’ She mumbled to herself, she didn’t know how long she was a captive. It could be a day, it could be a month. She only had seen ten namedays, she was pretty sure there wasn’t going to be a 11th. ‘Morning sunshine.’ Ralph, a guard, came and gave her some food. He was an asshole. At least he was told not to hit her. ‘What do you want?’ she asked furious. She knew he wouldn’t talk to anyone, unless he was torturing or fucking them. ‘Oh it is not what I want honey.’ He spoke a little too friendly. ‘Piss off’ she said, letting go of the little courtesy she had. ‘well, well little animal, you were only in fleabottom for a week.’ A shiver went down her spine. She knew that voice. It was Cercei’s. ‘Fear cuts deeper then swords.’ She whispered to herself. ‘Does it now? I don’t think so, maybe you would like to test it?’ Cersei answered. Arya did not want to answer her. ‘Swift as a deer, quiet as a shadow, quick as a snake, calm as still water, fear cuts deeper then swords.’ She went on. ‘My god Cersei, she is just a girl was it really necessary to put her in a dungeon?’ The imp appeared in the light and came closer to take a look at her. Arya didn’t hate him, his own family seemed to hate him enough. ‘she did not swear allegiance, you dwarf’ Cersei yelled. ‘Did you not? Now that is weird I would swear my life to the one taking the head of my father.’ He whispered to her with a grin. ‘I would too’ Arya answered. ‘Shut your mouth, Tyrion’ Tywin stepped into the light. ‘Lady Stark, I must say I have heard women say dumber things.’ ‘I am not a lady.’ Arya yelled. ‘I can see that’ the old lion said. ‘Listen, this is what is going to happen. Your brother Robb and lady Stark are allowed to keep Winterfell, however the North now belongs to the Boltons. Part of that ordeal was, that I were to give them a bride. For their sadistic bastard. Now guess who that’ll be?’ Tywin asked. Arya immediately thought of Sansa. ‘No, not my sister! You stay away from her you cunt!’ she yelled. ‘No I wasn’t thinking of your sister. You are ought to be his bride. I don’t want you here. Stay in the North pop out a few children and maybe you’ll live a happy life, or maybe the boy will flay you. I don’t care.’ Tywin said cold, he turned to walk away. ‘But I.. I haven’t bled yet’ she said warily. ‘You’ll stay in the North little bitch, as soon as you bleed you’ll be his wife.’ Cersei answered and she followed her father. The imp stayed behind. ‘Look, I am ought to marry your sister. I promise you that I’ll keep her safe.’ ‘Why would I trust a Lannister?’ Arya asked. ‘Because I am the Lannister hated by Lannisters, doesn’t that make me your friend?’ ‘No.’ ‘You are a very weird girl, Stark.’ Tyrion said, while shaking his head. ‘What did you just call me?’ she asked. ‘Stark.’ ‘I like that.’ ‘Then that’s what I will call you. Now Ralph let the girl go. I’ll give you a room in my chambers. Joffrey is never there so don't worry.’ 'If he would have been, he would be the one that had to worry. '


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is a chapter about Tyrion, I thought that would be interesting, next chapter will be from Sansa's pov.

Tyrion  
He observed the youngest Stark daughter as they walked towards his chambers. The girl was scrawny and had messy hair, she also gave of a scary vibe. Tyrion could imagine that the girl’s big grey eyes would be terrifying once she was grown up. In his years he had noticed that some people weren’t as rooted to their homes as others. Like for example Sansa, she loved her home but she could be happy elsewhere, at least he thought. Arya, however was clearly rooted in the North. Maybe she would want to travel but she would always need to go back to her home. It showed in her appearance, Stark behavior, and wildness. He had felt a little respect for the girl once they had found out she had managed to survive in Fleabottom for a week, even though she was a highborn. Suddenly he noticed something, she was a little too quiet for his liking. ‘Are you planning a escape, Stark?’ he asked mockingly. ‘No, it is not like I can escape now, I wanted to know if I could see my sister.’ ‘I will make sure that happens.’ He felt pity for the broken thing they were going to marry of to a person worse than Joffrey. ‘I noticed bruises on your arms and legs, did Ralph hit you?’ he went on. ‘No he didn’t.’ she didn’t seem to eager to tell him how she got those bruises. ‘If you want to pray to the weirwoodtrees I’ll make sure someone can escort you.’ He tried to cheer her up. ‘There is only one god.’ She answered in a monotone voice. ‘Who is he then?’ ‘Death.’ Chills went down his spine by the cold, true word of the little Stark. ‘Why are you nice to me?’ she asked. ‘Cause I have a tender spot for cripples, bastards and broken things.’ He answered. ‘I am not broken, if I fall of a horse I simply get back up, but if you want to help me there is something you can do.’ ‘What is it, Stark?’ ‘I need my sword Needle.’ ‘As much as I adore broken things, I rather not have them killing me in my sleep. Though if I may ask how the fuck did you managed to get a sword?’ he asked, genuinely curious. She stayed quiet however and he figured that she wouldn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t blame her.   
After he had given her some food and showed her, her room he left her to herself for a bit. She didn’t came out for a long time and he had to say he didn’t mind it very much. The ten year old had something scary over her and those grey eyes made him feel uneasy. He didn’t like being in Kingslanding one bit. He didn’t want to get married to the eldest Stark girl, she was only a child after all. Also, he couldn’t say he was surrounded by love and warmth, but then again: When was he actually surrounded by love and warmth without money in his pocket. The only reason that he smiled when he thought about his father was when he pictured the image of taking Casterly Rock.   
He heard a door open and he turned to look at the girl dressed in boy cloth, she had cut her long, messy hair to the length of her shoulders. ‘I am having to take every sharp thing from that room.’ He thought to himself. ‘Come sit down, would you care for a game of cyvasse.’ He asked, he was pretty drunk and he’d rather keep an eye on the girl, before she would hurt herself. Or worse him.   
The girl turned out to have a keen eye for the game. He had mostly played with her to see what kind of person she was. She was a Stark that much was true, but in her tactics he had noticed she didn’t care much for honor. Sure she played honorable if possible, but she had no issue with playing dirty either. ‘It may keep her alive if they bring her to that bastard.’ He thought to himself. 'It wasn’t right. If the stories were true, that boy was a monster.'   
When Arya was asleep, Tyrion went to Jaime. ‘Bring Sansa to Arya in the morning.’ ‘Getting soft little brother?’ Jaime asked. ‘Of course not. I only get drunk.’


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa   
She was nervous when The Hound came to her chambers and ordered her to follow him. She wondered if Joffrey found someone else to torture her, but quickly pushed that idea out of her mind. Since he married Margeary he had been less cruel then he used to be. Though she absolutely hated life here. The Lannisters had beheaded her father, thrown her little sister in a dungeon and planned on marrying her off to the imp. When she saw The Hound was taking her towards the chambers of Tyrion she gathered all her courage and planned on asking him if her sister could be released. Sure Arya was awful, she was boyish, yelled at everyone and hang out with peasants. Yes she had been dissatisfying as a little sister, but she was still her little sister. Her father had told her they needed each other. Sansa always thought of that as nonsense but in the months without her sister, she had found herself wishing she had the same resilience as her. ‘Go on open the door, little bird.’ The hound told her while he walked away.   
She was stunned. Her sister. It couldn’t be could it? But there she was smiling from ear to ear, with halflong hair and a little less filth then normally. Sansa ran towards the girl and hugged her tight. Arya made an awkward bow and begged her pardon, like a lady would’ve done. But Sansa didn’t want a lady for a sister anymore. ‘Get up, I love you.’ She hugged her sister again.   
They sat down at the table and for a minute just looked at each other. Sansa was furious when she saw how skinny her, already thin, sister had become. And Arya was furious for the hidden bruises on Sansa’s body. ‘I am so happy you are here, do you know what is going to happen to you?’ Sansa asked, a small part of her hoped that Arya would stay with her in Kingslanding, so she wasn’t alone anymore. The biggest part however hoped Arya would return to Winterfell, so at least she was safe. ‘Sansa… they euhm… They want to marry me of.’ Her sister said with a small voice. ‘To whom?’ Sansa was astonished, who could they possibly want to give Arya to. First of all she was just a little girl, but then again littler girls got married before. The biggest issue Sansa had was to comprehend why the Lannisters wanted to give someone her wild, rash, opinionated sister. Arya wasn’t even the heir to Winterfell. ‘To Ramsey Snow.’ Arya said, fury visible in her eyes. ‘A bastard?’ Sansa asked. ‘He is to be legitimized, he is to be the new warden of the North. Sansa… I keep hearing things, like he is not good in the head. He flays people. Like he just flays them even if they did nothing wrong.’ Arya spoke angry. ‘I hate them.’ Was all Sansa had to say and even after she said that little phrase she fell immediately back to her lady-like behavior. Truth be told she was scared. Scared for her sister and scared for herself. ‘He won’t get to me.’ Arya shrugged. ‘I’ll get Needle back.’ ‘I hardly think you can defend yourself with a sewing needle.’ ‘Needle is a sword.’ Arya whispered. Sansa was shocked. ‘How did she get a sword’ she thought to herself. Though her thoughts immediately flew to a boy with similar looks to Arya, a boy who now served as a crow in the night’s watch. ‘Father hired a dancing master for me, but he was a waterdancer. I can fight Sansa, no need to worry about me, I am not a stupid little girl.’ Sansa was dazzled with the new information her sister gave her. It didn’t help, Arya telling her not to worry, she still did. ‘The imp doesn’t seem so bad…’ Arya started. ‘I suppose he is not.’ Sansa cut her off.  
When she was escorted back to her chambers, she walked passed her fiancé. ‘My lady, how did it go?’ he asked. She doubted for a while and then said: ‘Very well. My lord would you mind to bring my sister some lemoncakes? it is her eleventh nameday.’


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought it would be funny to put in a friendship between Olenna and Arya. I addition to that I felt Arya and Sansa would have a more amicable relationship, cause they are stuck in similar situations.

Arya   
How she wished she could say life in Kingslanding was a living hell, in the following year. It wasn’t, it wasn’t the best live either but it wasn’t the worst. That fact was due entirely to four people in Kingslanding: Her sister Sansa, who got married to Tyrion, but slept in her room. Tyrion, who played cyvasse with her and gave her ale when she was tired of wine. Bronn, who Tyrion got to train her and Olenna with her sharp wit. Though days could be hell too. Some days she would be obligated to attend parties, smile and stand next to the people who beheaded her father, those days where the worst. After those days she would hear Sansa cry herself to sleep and after those days she felt a hole where her heart should be. Beatings weren’t as bad. Meryn Trant would hit her sometimes, often after a party. Because those were the times Joffrey saw her, and his anger would lit up again about the old scar. But beatings were things she could take, cause in the back of her head she always vowed to one day get back at them.   
‘The fuck you doing?!’ Bronn yelled once at her. She didn’t exactly get the movement he tried to teach her and he got slightly annoyed. ‘You know, you already fight weird with that left hand and that thin sword you keep waving around.’ He commented. ‘It is waterdancing, you idiot.’ She said. ‘Well, you are going to learn from me now , so better pay attention.’ ‘Fine.’ At first Bronn didn’t like having to teach Arya. ‘I have seen many girly, annoying little squires in my days, but now you are asking me to teach an actual girl?’ he had screamed at Tyrion. However as the days went on, they got along better and better, Bronn liked the jokes she made and she liked the way he talked. ‘You are a weird lady you know ’ he asked once when she was lying on the ground, tired of practicing. ‘I am a sword.’ She replied. ‘Yep, totally nuts.’  
After a year it was time for her to travel back North. Saying goodbye to Olenna Tyrell had been the easiest goodbye and still she felt a lump in her throat. ‘Good luck with that vile boy and thank the gods you haven’t bled yet.’ Olenna had said. ‘Thank you, lady Olenna.’ She replied, it was fair to say that lady Olenna was the only lady besides the ones in her family Arya had respect for. ‘He will not bring me down, after all I am a Stark.’ She said. ‘Yes always remember that, you are a wolf, don’t let yourself be commanded by some maniac. You even have a good motto: “Winter is coming” while I am stuck with “Growing strong” could there be a more ignorant motto?’ the old lady made a face of disapproval at her houses words. ‘Goodbye Queen of Thorns.’ ‘Goodbye Queen of Wolves.’  
The goodbye from Sansa was harder. Mainly cause Sansa broke down crying. Arya wanted to cry with her, but it was as if her tears dried up for good when they had killed her father. ‘Arya promise me you’ll behave. You need to stay alive.’ Sansa begged her. ‘The North is my home. I will behave, but I still have the wolfsblood.’ Over the year Arya had grown into a very dangerous person. Her tongue was sharp as a knife, her knowledge of battles was immense and she had the skills with a sword to match. Now Sansa had always known her sister possessed these skills, but what was new was how fast her sister knew who wasn’t who they said they were. And what was completely shocking was how easy Arya made quick decisions. Still Sansa was worried, cause Arya was, even with all these talents, still a child and a wild one too. ‘In winter we must protect ourselves, look after one another.’ Sansa said trying to stroke her sisters messy hair. It wasn’t just Sansa who worried about Arya, Arya worried about Sansa as well. ‘Sansa, you are a true lady and in this year I’ve learned that ladies can be as dangerous as warriors. The lone wolf dies but the pack survives. Never forget that even though I am in the North I am still here in Westeros, and as long as I am alive I look after you, sister.’  
‘Take care Lannister.’ ‘You to Stark’ Tyrion and Arya shook hands. In the past year Arya had grown fond of Tyrion Lannister and he had grown fond of her. ‘And take care of my sister too.’ She said. ‘As I promised, little wolf.’ ‘You know I hate that name.’ ‘Too bad.’ He handed her a box. ‘It is a gift, I made sure, by the way, that your favorite needle is amongst your baggage. Oh and I advise you to open the gift once you are alone in the carriage.’ ‘Thank you.’ She gave him a hug, it was unlike her, but she felt like she should. Next to Tyrion stood Bronn to say goodbye. She gave him a hand. ‘Goodbye you little twat.’ He said. ‘Goodbye you ignorant cunt.’ She said smiling.  
When she was riding in her carriage she opened Tyrions gift. She saw that in the box four gifts lay. First she picked up the one of Sansa. It was a necklace, but instead of a girly thing, Sansa had picked something truly for Arya. The necklace was silver and had an onyx hanger. The hanger pictured a wolf as black as the night. The piece of paper around it read. ‘To the nightwolf of my family.’ She immediately put it around her pale neck. The next gift she picked up was the one of Olenna. It was a pair of leather gloves, on the right hand a rose was embroided on the other a wolf. On the piece of paper with Olenna’s name stood something else. ‘Maybe this will help you think of an old lady, who appreciated your companionship, once in a while.’ The next one she picked up was Bronn’s, he had given her a dagger which was engraved with the words. ‘Don’t be afraid to play dirty.’ The blade was almost black and Arya decided to name the dagger Frost. The last gift she picked up was Tyrion’s. It was a piece of the cyvasse game. The strongest piece to be exact, the dragon, made out of light green jade. ‘Cause you are perhaps even capable of taming a dragon.’


	5. Chapter 5

Arya  
The ride North was long and tiring, Arya was genuinely bored. Littlefinger was there as well, but Arya didn’t trust him and tried to stay away from him as much as possible. At first the men escorting her North refused to let her put on breeches and ride with them, they made her sit in the carriage all day. But Arya Stark was always quick to make friends and soon they had let her ride alongside them. Something changed when she went North, she started to dream of Nymeria, or to be exact of her being Nymeria. Leading a giant pack of wolves, menhunters, every night she tasted blood on her lips. The men with whom she traveled where alarmed by the calm roads, they had expected they had to fight, only nothing happened. Arya knew Nymeria was protecting her somewhere out there. Oh how she wished she could see Nymeria again. She remembered the uproar she had caused by naming her wolf Nymeria. Her father had laughed together with Jon and Robb. Her mother, Sansa and septa Mordane had scolded her for it. She had heard some Northeners call it inappropriate. However the truth was she never cared. She respected Nymeria of Dorne, cause she led her people and was a warrior queen. It didn’t matter that she was from Dorne.   
Somewhere in the company a man rode behind Arya Stark, he was from the North and had been sent along, cause he knew the roads. He looked at the twelve year old bride to be and worried. Not about her, but about the north. The girl looked slightly to much like a certain other northern lady, he recognized the same spark in her grey eyes that had brought a kingdom down before. It had began to snow and snowflakes rested on the girl’s halflong light brown hair. She wore black breaches and leather gloves and a black necklace with her sigil. He hadn’t missed the dagger she had slipped in her boots, but he had decided not to comment about it, after all she was still the daughter of his true lord. She would be beautiful and he prayed that this time it wouldn’t kill thousands.   
She had put on a dress, made specifically for her. It was very slim-fitting and showed her lean body. The dress had long sleeves and a high collar, the collar was decorated with three silver wolves. A red line split the dress in white and black. The tray of the dress dragged far behind her and made it almost impossible to sit on the black horse. Her hair hang loose and it didn’t take long for the snowflakes to form a crown on her head. She looked beautiful, even though she felt weird in the dress. But then again Arya never cared about looks. She just hoped she would soon see her mother and brothers, most of all she hoped for Jon.   
When she felt the cold air she felt home, it was only sad that the sight of Dreadfort contradicted that feeling. ‘You are a Stark of Winterfell, you told me you could be strong.’ The words of her father went through her head. She rode on the back of her horse towards the gate leaving behind her escort who couldn’t match her pace.   
‘Who are you.’ She was stopped at the gate by two guards. ‘I am Arya Stark of Winterfell, fiancé of Ramsey Snow.’ She pushed the last few words out. Her escort had caught up with her and the gate flew open. In front of her she saw lords and ladies of the North. ‘Traitors she thought, you should be standing besides Robb.’ In front of the lords and ladies she saw Roose Bolton and Ramsey Snow. They had the same watery dead eyes and both looked terrifying. ‘Calm as still water’ she whispered to herself. Ramsey was a strong man with an ugly, mean face and he looked at her with a disgusting grin. ‘Fear cuts deeper then swords.’ She got of her horse and walked straight up to Ramsey. Before he could speak, she tensed her muscles and spoke: ‘I am Arya Stark of Winterfell, it is well… I wouldn’t say good, but I met you. You should tell me how it is to have taken a position that doesn’t belong to your family. I am dying to know.’ With every second Arya looked at the man she felt anger rise up. Some ladies gasped at her words, only Ramsey smiled. ‘I will definitely tell you, it is a funny story.’ Arya looked away from Ramsey and focused on Roose. ‘I hoop you will feel at home, my lady.’ He spoke. ‘I doubt it.’ She shrugged. ‘I advise you to hold your tongue.’ Roose said so soft-spoken it sent a shiver down her spine.


End file.
